


When Darkness Shows the Stars

by captainofbrooklyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Pre-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Time Travel, Vader misses his mom ok, but plot twist she's only sixteen, shmi time travels to the galactic empire era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:57:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23246569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainofbrooklyn/pseuds/captainofbrooklyn
Summary: Shmi’s new Master was strange. He was a large creature clothed in black with his every word masked by a terrifying vocoder. He didn’t refer to himself as her Master, and he didn’t behave like one either. All he did was tell her to stay in the plain rooms he’d provided her and to not ask too many questions.In which a sixteen year old slave named Shmi appears on The Executor.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader & Shmi Skywalker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 271





	When Darkness Shows the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Ok back with another fic that I didnt edit! Lets go! 
> 
> Ive been writing a ton of star wars fic lately. Shmi is a character that doesn't show up in a lot of them, and I don't think Ive read a time travel fic that really involves her character. I also thought it would be interesting to have a young version of herself be the one to time travel since she doesn't know who Anakin is yet. Anyways, please please please comment, I love reading them! Any thoughts u had, positive or negative, about my fic. I might continue this. I have other ideas but who knows. 
> 
> Hope anyone reading this has a good day! Remember to stay safe and wash ur hands!

Shmi’s new Master was strange. He was a large creature clothed in black with his every word masked by a terrifying vocoder. He didn’t refer to himself as her Master, and he didn’t behave like one either. All he did was tell her to stay in the plain rooms he’d provided her and to not ask too many questions. 

She remembered the odd flash of light, the feeling of falling, and waking up on the cold, efficient ship she was on now.  _ The Executor _ , it was apparently called. The officers gasped, alarmed, and her now-Master had stormed in, his fury evident in the way the men backed away from him. Shmi shivered at the memory. Her now-Master seemed so angry when she told him her name. She wasn’t looking forward to him releasing that anger.

Rolling out of bed, she quietly put on one of the outfits in the drawer. It was a simple white dress with a sash in the middle, and it matched the boots she’d been given earlier. It was far nicer than any other slave garb her masters had given, but that only made her more worried. The previous Masters she had liked to show off their cruelty like a fancy accessory. Some would only hurt her if necessary, but others liked to beat her to show that they could. Shmi winced as she finished putting the dress on. Her wounds hadn’t quite healed yet. 

The door opened. Shmi saw the guards in strange white armor nod (why would a slave have guards?) and her Master stepped inside. The  _ kish-kosh  _ sounds of a respirator echoed in the nearly empty room. Shmi bowed her head as the door closed, staring at her feet. Most Masters didn’t like to be looked in the eyes (though this Master always wore a mask), and she didn’t want to risk angering him further. 

“Are you comfortable?” her Master said curtly. He clearly hadn’t asked that question in a long time. 

“Yes.” Shmi had learned to keep responses short and simple. Masters didn’t like to hear speeches from slaves. Her Master didn’t respond. “You have been very generous.” 

_ Praise _ , the other slaves had first told her when she was first chipped,  _ Masters love praise _ . 

_Kish-kosh,_ _kish-kosh, kish-kosh_.

Her Master took a step toward her. Shmi kept her eyes trained on the floor. She dug her nails into her palms, determined to stay calm. If she didn’t look up, if she didn’t look at that mask, she would be fine. She would survive whatever this new Master had to throw at her. 

_ Kish-kosh, kish-kosh, kish-kosh.  _

“I am sorry,” she said. “I do not know why I appeared on your ship.”  _ Kish-kosh.  _ “I will do anything to make it up, Master.” 

The light fixture above them sparked. Shmi gasped as the steel holding up her bed collapsed. Her drawer flew backward and crashed into the wall. Her Master was furious. Rage poured out of him in waves; Shmi stumbled backward to try and avoid the tide. 

The storm abated just as quickly as it arrived. She felt the coldness in the room wrap around her, stopping her from falling. Her Master reached out, then pulled back, like he was unsure of what to do. “I-” he said, far softer than before, “I am not your Master. No one will ever be your Master again.” 

She stayed silent. This had to be a trick. 

But something told her that her Master-no, not Master- was telling the truth. 

“Your chip will be removed tomorrow,” the not-Master said. The hum of the respirator was no longer scary; the sound had melted into the background. Even the mask was less frightening. Shmi didn’t know why she trusted the man in front of her, but she could sense there was something more to him. There was a reason why there were guards posted outside the door, and why the not-Master hesitated to move closer to her. 

“Thank you,” she said. “But where will I go? My parents are dead. The slavers killed or captured the rest of my people.” She hated the way she could say it, like it was nothing but a fact of life. There were stars in the galaxy, her chip would be removed, and she had no family left for her to love. 

“I will keep you under my protection,” the not-Master replied. “You are aboard my ship. But you will not leave this room unless I tell you so.” 

Shmi nodded. That didn’t sound like freedom to her, but the not-Master felt like one of the krayt dragons the Elders told her about. He didn’t want to possess, he wanted to  _ protect _ . No one had protected Shmi in years. Just the thought of having her chip removed was enough. 

“What is your name?” 

The not-Master didn’t respond for several seconds. “Vader,” he said finally, before turning around and leaving the room. 

Shmi was moved to a different room soon after. Apparently it was attached to Vader’s quarters, and it was far nicer than the rooms she had before. The bed was softer than a cloud, the walls were shiny and polished, and it even had a holo, which Shmi had never seen outside Gardulla’s palace. 

The next day, Shmi was taken to the infirmary to have her chip removed. Vader was behind the medic, staring as the man told Shmi to lie on the bed. The medic was about to inject her with a sedative when Vader said, “Doctor.” 

“Yes, my Lord?” 

“Treat her other wounds first. I do not want any complications with this procedure.” Shmi wondered how he knew about her other wounds- the old welts on her legs, the blisters on her feet, the scars on her back- and realized it must be another one of his strange powers. He’d already moved objects in her room last night. What else could Vader do? 

“Understood, my Lord.” The medic was sweating, but his hand remained steady. Shmi gave him a slight smile. 

“Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your help.” 

“Of course, Miss.” The doctor injected her with the sedative. “I wouldn’t want to do anything else.” 

She woke up back in her room, feeling better than she had in years. Her back no longer ached when she bent down and it didn’t hurt when she walked. She no longer felt the chip buried in her tissue and she knew she was free at last. She turned to thank the not-Master, Vader, but realized he wasn’t there. 

“You are Force-sensitive,” Vader announced one day. “I have long since suspected it, but now I finally have proof.” 

“The Force?” 

“It is the energy that binds the universe,” he said. They were in another one of the empty rooms, though they were guards on the outside. She knew the guards were confused- why did their Lord care so much for a former slave that appeared out of nowhere?-and she was confused too. There was something more to Lord Vader. Shmi just had to figure out what it was. “With it, you can manipulate the world around you.” 

She remembered how he destroyed her first room. “You can move things with your mind?” 

“Yes. Among other things.” She had a feeling she didn’t want to know what ‘other things’ were. “It is why you can sense where others are and how they feel.” 

She remembered how her father sometimes liked to make his weapons float, or how her grandmother always knew she was upset. Her sister always seemed to know where the windstorms would blow. Shmi never questioned her family’s gift. She also never questioned why she could never use it after she was enslaved. 

“I know,” she said quietly. “This ‘Force’ as you call it, has been in my family for generations.” 

Lord Vader stared at her. “Interesting.” She wanted to ask him more questions. Why did he have the same gift as her family? Could she ever unlock it again? But the words were stuck in her throat. Even though the chip had been removed, she still felt its presence, a ghost lurking in her body, always haunting her. 

Shmi spent most of her days alone in her room. She tried to talk to the guards outside, but they refused to speak to her. She heard their whispers, though not a lot of it made sense. 

“Where do you think she came from?” one said. “I was on the deck, and bam-there she was.” 

“Don’t know,” the other responded. “But we needed this. We’ve been hunting Skywalker for two years and Lord Vader’s getting more frustrated by the day. Maybe this girl will be a good distraction, if you know what I mean-” 

Shmi backed away. She didn’t want to hear them speculating about her and Lord Vader. The guards had said Vader was hunting Skywalker. The other slaves had murmured about the Skywalkers, the freed slaves that cast off their chains and fled to the sky where they could never be caught again. It was just a story, they said. Just a way to keep some hope alive. 

“Who is Skywalker?” she asked Vader. The man had taken to training her in ‘The Force’ as he called it. Shmi could only do minor things; she could lift pebbles off the ground and feel the people walking below their quarters. She sensed Vader could do far more. “Why are you hunting them?” 

The room chilled. “Who told you of Skywalker?” 

“No one,” she said, thinking of the guards outside her door. “But you did not answer my question. Who is Skywalker?” Was Skywalker a freed slave like herself? Why would Vader be hunting them then? 

“Skywalker,” Vader said, turning away from her. “Is a rebel. It is my duty to capture him.” 

“A rebel against what?” 

_ Kish-kosh.  _

“The Galactic Empire.” 

“The Empire?” Now she was confused. “There is no Empire. The Republic-” 

“The Republic,” Vader said. “Is no more.” 

She spent more time using the Force. She had not seen Vader in days, and all she could do was move tiny objects around her room and attempt to figure out what was going on. News traveled slowly in the Outer Rim, but she should’ve heard about the fall of the Republic. She had a feeling that it was connected with her sudden appearance on the ship, and why Vader kept her hidden from everyone else. 

She sat down, closed her eyes, and reached out. There were hundreds, potentially thousands of people on this ship. She felt everything from them- hope, fear, anger, sadness, joy- but it was too vague.  _ What are you thinking _ , she asked the Force.  _ What is going on?  _

Nothing. 

She took a deep breath, and reached out to Vader. She’d been on his ship for weeks yet she barely knew more than when she first arrived. She sensed him easily- he was a storm, a krayt dragon-and she felt waves of anger and pain. Those emotions surrounded her, nearly drowning her, but she forged on. She sent out a message through the Force: 

_ WHO IS SKYWALKER?  _

That was the last thing she did before everything went black. 

“Never do that again,” Vader said when she first awoke. The room was ice-cold. He was furious with her. 

“Who is Skywalker?” 

Silence. Shmi pushed herself up- she was in the infirmary again, but there was no doctor- and glared at the man in front of her. “You are hunting them down for a reason.” 

“Skywalker is  _ mine _ . That is- that is all you need to know.” 

“Skywalker is a person,” she responded coolly, “and you cannot  _ own  _ a person. Their spirit does not belong to you.” 

Vader stepped back. “You are correct.” He paused. “Skywalker is my son.” 

Her eyes widened. “Your son?” She knew he was telling the truth, but only a part of it. “Why is he not with you? Why must you hunt him?” 

“My son was stolen from me by the Jedi,” Vader responded. “For years I thought he was dead. Now I know I was deceived.”

Shmi had heard stories of the Jedi. They were said to be peacekeepers, heroes of the galaxy. Yet Vader was telling the truth. They had torn his family apart. 

She knew the Jedi weren’t heroes. If they were, she would’ve never been a slave to begin with. 

“Shmi,” Vader said, “The Force is strong in my family. It appears to have been that way for generations.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Luke Skywalker is not just my family,” the man who freed her from slavery said. “He is yours too.” 


End file.
